he bedroom of a child can be unsettling. During
the day the space is filled with laughter and noise, but when the sun sets it
changes significantly. The bizarre toys and bright colours become dull, warped
and misshapen under the faded light. What were once the smiling faces of dolls
become sinister and disturbing grimaces in the dark.

In a small bed in the corner of the room, a child
quietly dozed. Curled up in a ball with her head buried deeply in the pillow,
she slept on, completely unaware she was not alone. In the opposite corner,
being careful not to make any noise, the Doctor stood. Satisfied she was really
asleep, he folded his arms quietly, leaned back against a pink wardrobe and
settled in for a long wait.

And he waited.

Finally, something changed. One moment, the floor
of the bedroom was empty save for a small collection of scattered toys, the
next, a tall figure stood motionless in the middle of the room. Its appearance had
been instantaneous but completely silent, marked only by a slight gust of air
shifted by his arrival.

In the darkness it was difficult to make out much
in the way of detail. Tall, but definitely humanoid in shape, any features were
concealed within layers of dark material that covered its whole body. It stood
perfectly still, save for a slow and methodical turning of its head as it gazed
around the room, searching.

Finally, its eyes settled on the sleeping bundle
in the corner of the room.

‘Hello,’ the Doctor said in a calm but firm tone
from the opposite corner.

Instantly, the tall figure stopped and spun to
face him. Two glowing yellow eyes fixed the time-traveller in an unblinking
stare.

‘We are muffled, she will not wake.’ The voice was
clipped and methodical, each word spoken with precision, as if being chosen
carefully.

The Doctor snapped open, his sonic screwdriver.
For a moment his face was illuminated by its green light as he swept the device
in the direction of the new arrival.

‘So we are,’ he commented at a more reasonable
volume. ‘You’re a machine?’ he added after a moment.

‘I am a fabrication. That is correct.’

‘That explains a lot.’ The Doctor paused. ‘Do you
know who I am?’

‘Your psychometric information indicates a high
percentage chance that you are the entity Doctor.’

The Time Lord stepped forward, adjusting his tie.
‘Well I suppose that’ll save on introductions,’ he replied, sounding marginally
disappointed.

‘You should not be here,’ the machine reiterated.

‘Yes I should,’ the Doctor replied. ‘That’s the
one thing you can be certain about me, I’m always where I’m supposed to be.’ He
paused. ‘Not always where I want to be,’ he conceded, ‘but you on the other
hand are a synthetic lifeform who has just appeared in the bedroom of a small
child. Of the two of us, who’s more out of place?’

‘I am here to collect.’

‘Yes, I know that. I know what you are, I know who
you are and I'm not going to stop you. I just want to know, why?’

‘Why?’ the creature repeated.

‘Yes, why? Throughout the whole universe, there
are two legends that repeat themselves endlessly,’ the Doctor explained. ‘Yours
is one of them. The Collector, the Harvester, Tooth-Stealer, Denturex.
Different languages, different species, but always the same legend.’

‘What is the other legend?’ the machine asked.

The Doctor grinned. ‘Me. Now, there are countless
cultures and species across the galaxy,’ he continued, ‘all sharing one thing
in common. A legend that someone, something, and for some reason, keeps
stealing their teeth.’

‘I am not the only unit allocated with this task,’
the figure explained.

‘That makes sense,’ the Doctor conceded. ‘It’s a
big universe, and that’s a lot of teeth.’

The machine turned for a moment to face the
sleeping girl, before rotating again to face the Doctor. ‘What is the reason
for your presence?’ it asked.

‘The girl,’ the Doctor motioned towards the
sleeping child in the corner of the room. ‘She’s special to me. We travelled
together for a while. Well, we will travel together for a while, she’s a bit
small right now though. It’s complicated.’

‘I will not harm her,’ the robot insisted.

‘Yes, I know that.’

‘What is the reason for your presence, if not to
protect?’

The Doctor’s grin widened. ‘Curiousity! I'll be
honest, I've always wanted to meet you. I thought I’d caught up to you a few
years ago actually,’ he explained. ‘There were rumours of you at a London
primary school, but it turned out it was just Alice’s mum.’

The machine stepped towards the sleeping child for
a moment, before pausing.

‘Looking for this?’ the Doctor asked, tossing a
tiny object towards the figure. Without turning to look, the machine snapped
out a metallic hand and caught the item cleanly. “Don’t worry,” the Doctor
added, ‘I’ve left payment.’

The machine turned and for a moment its lifeless
eyes fixed on the Doctor. For that one brief second, the Time Lord couldn’t
help but feel a little sorry for it. Then it was gone, vanishing as soundlessly
and quickly as it had arrived.

For a moment, the Doctor stood at the head of the
bed, his ancient eyes watching over the slumbering child. Finally, he leaned
carefully over the bed and gently patted her gently on the hand.

‘Sweet dreams, Pond.’

He paused, and raised a finger in warning.

‘And don't spend it all at once.’

written by

NICK WHEELER

copyright 2015

artwork by

COLIN JOHN

copyright 2015

artwork by ANDY LAMBERT

used with permission

Welcome to inferno-fiction.co.uk.

Inferno Fiction is an on-line Doctor Who Fiction Fanzine. First created in the 80's when fanzines in the printed form were the norm, the fanzine has now leapt onto the world wide web and is enjoyed by many across the world!

The stories featured are from the original pages of the printed fanzine and now include a collection of new material.

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